It had to have been years since she set foot in these lands - lands she once called home.  While she wasn't born within the towering wooden walls, she stumbled upon the village and called it home for many years.  Of course, with nothing tying her to the lands, her heart had sprouted the urge to explore new places and she left without a goodbye.  Scout hadn't befriended many when she first found the village of Rep'nah, only a select few were interested in her.  She wondered if anyone would remember her, or if everyone she had met since moved on to whatever sort of life lay beyond this realm.  Well, they could've just left like she did, but the tale would be much more dramatic if they died. 

With a steady pace, Scout kept her eyes peeled for any landmarks she remembered would lead her to the village, perks of having a parent of elven descent.  The chilled winter morning crunched beneath her feet with each step, leaving behind subtle footprints.  She was lost; an early wake time paired with the impatience she's confident belonged to the human side of her convinced her that it would be okay to continue looking for the village before the sun woke.  Terrible judgement is also a trait she places blame on her human ancestors for.  Nothing was as she remembered it.  She swore there was supposed to be an ancient tree to her left that somewhat resembled a naked man, five inches and all, but it was nowhere to be seen.  Maybe the years passed in the far away cities made her forget where she came from.

Lack of perception is also something she blames her human side for, or else she would've noticed the giant animal footprints that she happened to be following before she heard the monstrous growl.  Scout froze in her spot, eyes immediately looking for the culprit.  Judging by the size of the prints, the animal - bear, she suspected - was huge, however it wasn't anywhere to be seen.  Hopefully it hadn't heard her, though she wasn't paying attention to the sound of her steps and just knew they weren't as quiet as she should've made them.

"Heck."

Scout silently went to the nearest tree and began to climb her way up it, hoping the higher vantage point would give her better sight of the bear and she'd be able to hide from it should it have heard her and circled back around.

Nitara tucks herself into the corner and pulls her hoodie tight to her face. A few odd glances were par for the course, she was more concerned with shelter at this moment. Paranoia slipped into her thoughts. She hadn't heard the bells again. Had she lost them? Her eyes scanning the group, taking in as much detail as her brain could retain.

The carriage jolts to life, breaking Nitara's focus. Her head slammed into the carriage wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A young Nitara, no older than 12, with copper brown skin and cognac brown eyes; stood at the edge of the cliff. Peering over she watched red clouds swirl up and around, covering any hope of a bottom to this mountainside. The sweet smell of flowers followed by a suffocating grasp of sulfur. Her lids flutter as she stumbles a bit. A gentle hand is placed on her shoulder, steadying her and turning her away from the edge

"If i didn't know better i would think you wished for death, flower bud." said the boy. He himself could be no older than 17, although the sulfuric rasp in his voice aged him a few years. Nitara frowned up at her master.

"I've seen death, sifu. It's no less peaceful than a day's training with you." she would retort, snarkily.

The boy laughed and looped his arm around her neck, locking her in a playful headlock. "Oh yeah? Then call me your grim reaper" he teased, giving her neck a little squeeze. Nitara grabbed at his arm, mocking a choking sound.

"Sifu, i.. i can't breathe"

The 2 tussled for a while. Nitara, being much smaller, would fall into his shadow, flowing with his footsteps.

"Airbender trickery" he laughs.
"Sounds like a sore loser." she snipped back
"Ha! Aren't you counting your coins before the kill?"
"No, just reminding you, you have a handicap"
"Woah! And just what would that be?"
"These stinking bells!"

Kick for kick, blow for blow. Watching his movements, feeling for the change in air patterns as he swipes for her. Slowly other students began to gather, watching their duel.

"Keep this up, you can probably copy MY bending style"
"Which you're careful to NEVER show me"

The master smiled down at her and for a moment her heart skipped a beat. Was that pride on his face? Their battle to her was like a dance. All others sounds, figures and forms; faded into the background. She could feel his body heat rise from him, causing a slight steam in the mid-autumn  air. Closing her eyes the young girl would lose herself into a trance, stepping on air like it was stones in a river. The faint sound of bells growing louder in her ear. 

"Nitara...?" her master's voice, choked out behind her.

"...behind me?"
 
Her wild and impassioned dances had pulled with it the red mists from the valley. Students crumpled to the floor around her, hands clasped to their throats. The more experienced sat in a meditation pose, scarves pulled tight to their noses and mouths.

"Sifu.." she calls out to him. Her heart racing, having lost sight of him. What had she done? Her breath hitches in her lungs, drawing in a cloud through her mouth and nostrils. Her mouth filled with the taste of iron as her eyes rolled into her head. She couldn't think, the constant chime of the bells made her head pulsate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Lady Achlys
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Classification: Inexperienced bender
Element: Air
Description:

Personality: Achlys is a quiet, intense, and knowledgeable individual. Observant, manipulative, and prone to good nature's trickery when bored. She is often found alone or among very few as to maintain anonymity and is not likely to stay in one place for very long. She intentionally avoids disclosing any personal information but is obviously of wealth and carries herself as such. Achlys also has the ability to transition seamlessly into who/whatever the situation may call for (gender, social class, etc).

Backstory:
Lady Achlys is the and the wife of a chi blocking master in a small earth bending village. They were  ambushed and her husband was killed by rogue earth benders on their way to into town. Her narrow escape was aided by a fellow traveler who happened to avoid the same fate but not before the loss of her left eye.
The woman, Raina, was a healer who has done the best she can to help her regain her strength and balance from the attack. Lady Achlys discovered her air bending ability after becoming frustrated with her sight and performed a fairly decent air push. She had been working with Raina to find an experienced air bending teacher when Raina was suddenly called  away on an emergency, leaving Lady Achlys on her own to find a teacher as well as who she will become.

Zico had largely been following silently through the city to their destination. He considered himself to be a patient man, but for some reason, he was growing quite antsy as they walked. Each person who stopped to speak with the Earthbending Master put Zico a little more on edge. He decided to distract himself by taking inventory of his surroundings. There were several food stalls and diners that made his stomach scream at him, but he ignored them all. Eventually though, he saw it!

He didn't bother to stop the two Earthbenders, instead simply falling off to the side to get a closer look. He wouldn't let them get too far away though, quickly and discretely catching up, only to find Xo had been stopped yet again! He advanced far enough to stand at Iyah's side and spoke to her quietly.

"Does he know -everyone- in the city?"

It didn't seem impossible, now that he had said the words. An outgoing and successful man like him? It wasn't surprising that he knew a lot of people! But did every one of them have to stop him on his path? Wasn't there someone waiting for them? He wouldn't rush him, but he couldn't help but to feel concerned. He fell back into his position behind the two and continued scanning their surroundings. He would just try to relax and let the day run it's course naturally...

There are six seats of the D'Efro Council of Lords, and all were filled save three. There was the High Lord's seat, more of a throne, really. It was stonemade, high-backed with a cushion upon its seat. Aegnor knew it was for the comfort of the High Lord as these meetings could take days, and this one had been no different. Aegnor had slept for two days and as the old dwarf had called for a Closed Hand meeting as soon as Aegnor's head had hit the pillow, the Lord's of D'Efro had deliberated his and his charges lives.

The seat had a dozen steps and at their feet were five other chairs that were equidistant apart. The chairs of the Lesser Lord's were wooden constructs, looking more comfortable than the High Lords own, and done in the colors of their respective House's. Each chair, wood and stone alike, had carvings of past wars against the Endarkened; grotesque images that left the beholder nauseated. Aegnor, of course, knew the trick behind it and wasn't affected, or so he'd tell himself as he stared at those images.

It was just the seven of them along with small contingents of retainers, elsewhere at the Kyw'nithe, a keep recently discovered in the last twenty years. It's name was Finger's Hold, roughly translated. It was a castle a few hours ride by horseback from the High Lords fortress.

The First Lesser Lord was a druid human, Gerahn Longstride. Gerahn had been vital to the efforts twenty years ago, they all had, but Gerahn had sacrificed almost as much as Aegnor had. The First Lesser Lord was an athletic man, tall and broad-shouldered, whose eyes looked like ghosts of themselves, sightless and unnervingly accurate at tracking Aegnor as the half-elf proceeded to take his postion before the congregation, to plead his case and that of the girls' beside him.

The First Lord had runes branded across his face, down his eyes, a pact that gave him foresight and prophesy in exchange for his own. It had been a hard choice, then, but it was one Gerahn had seemed to accept as time passed. He wielded twin long knives, their aura something dormant, sleeping.

The second seat seat to the right of Gerahn's, was one of the three empty seats. It was a seat meant for Aegnor, long ago.


The Third Lesser Lord, seat to the left of Gerahn's was an elf man, Anies Blackthorne, who Aegnor had grown up with; they had been friends up until Aegnor's father had made a pact with the Endarkened, releasing a being that was millennia old to exact its revenge. Things like that, apparently, ended relationships.

It did, however, start mass killings of elves.

It had been a hard twenty years, for all races.

Anies was like most elves, tall and lean; beautiful in all the ways that tugged the poets heart. Aegnor couldn't see it. What he could see was eyes the color of honey, light and gold with hate, a look reserved for Aegnor only, the half-breed had learned.

Aegnor was used to being hated by others of his elfin blood. After all, who had ever heard of a half-elf king? It simply wasn't done. It was an abomination to the rules of the land.

And perhaps it had been, considering everything that had happened. That will happen.

Anies was armoured and armed, unlike last time. A calvary saber made of starsteel, forged by a master blacksmith. It was a cold weapon to look at it with all of its simplicity, the lack of design and embellishment giving it an aura of menace. It was a weapon made to kill. It suited Anies' unbendable will and single-mindedness. Aegnor recalled the words spoken by the two men, outside Aegnor's room when the half-elf had awoke to thundering knocks.

'I see you have yet to replace me. Could that be what this is about? You want me back?'

'Silence! You have one last chance to convince us to spare you, before I will be allowed to end your miserable life, are you sure you want to ruin it so quickly for the two of you?' Anies' tone was cold, anger creeping at the edges of his voice. 'We have better things to do here than argue about this, not when our brothers are busy fighting the nest you kicked.'

Aegnor felt his body go still, 'You mean....?'

Before he could speak again, the Druid spoke. 'Yes, the Eye's of Kru'ul are fighting on your behalf. The twins are quite capable, Tysu'a, have no fear. You should be concerned with yourself and this child.'

The Druid looked at the girl, wincing as he seemed to struggle with looking away; gasping for breath, the First Lord struggled for several seconds to regain his composure.

During that time, Anies rose to his feet, shouting, 'What have you done, you darkspawned heathen?!' His hands gripped the sword at his waist, a tool of unyielding power in its master's grip.

He had barely rose from his chair before a large voice boomed out, 'Enough!'

High Lord Hourdrith Stonebeard had spoken and it had been done, though the Druid was in the beginnings of coming to his senses.

'If it had been an attack, I would have been targeted as well. Put aside your hate for a minute, Lord Blackthorne, and let us put this behind us so we may help our brethren.' The dwarf's voice could hardly be contained in the halls of Kyw'nithe. 'Aegnor Fellfire, we have deliberated your fate and, while we are two short, there has been a general consensus made...'

His voice trailed off as the doors opened once more. Everyone in the room tensed save perhaps Stonebeard himself.

Two men strode into the room, armoured boots and metal plates clacking and smacking against each other as they walked in, standing beside Aegnor and the girl. They bowed at the waist towards Hourdrith. The twins of Kru'ul, Matthias and Thomas Whitestone, had arrived.

They were also human, standing at average heights with blond hair that was kept closely cut against their heads. Their eyes were deep oceans of blue, vast and endless, and just as merciless as the waves that sunk whole ships. They had been born under the star of Kru'ul, chosen by him from the marks on their foreheads: a simple enough diamond pattern that was deep green in color.

Kru'ul was an elder god from a time before the Endarkened. He was still worshipped by small communities of people in isolated areas.

Aside from their eyes and hair, that was were the similarities ended. Matthias was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man with a platinum colored beard that reached to his neck and thick enough to give the old dwarf a run for his money. He had laugh lines around his eyes and the slight tug at the corner of his lips suggested he smiled easily. He carried an assortment of wands about his waist in a utility belt, a few pouches had been sewed on to hold various bottles of liquids to the left hip while the right was adorned by a longsword, just as plain as Anies' own. The menace wasn't there, but something alien radiated from the longsword.

But when that smile came from those eyes...

Aegnor suppressed a shudder lest he be seen weak, though he couldn't help but wish they hadn't shown up.

Thomas was leaner, and was known to have a mean streak. Looking into their eyes, Aegnor could see it; could see the endless nightmares that could be inflicted by the twins. Such was their god's nature, however. Thomas had a bow packed away, slung across his back, a quiver at his right hip. A hand-and-a-half sword strapped along his spine, almost hidden by the bow. It was also plainly wrought, their alien aura matching the longswords own.

'We have finished our task the Traitor had set against us, High Lord.' They spoke in unison, their voices angelic and pure; matter of fact and uncompromising. 'We have come in answer to your call of a Closed Hand meeting. We apologize for being late.'

Again, they bowed, awaiting for judgement.

The High Lord pondered them, fingers stroking his beard. 'In light of your actions in stopping this nest our accused disturbed, you will be forgiven for your tardiness. Do not allow it to happen again.'

The dwarf gestured almost dismissively, the twins taking their seats across from each other and stared at Aegnor.

'Now, without further interruptions,' the smooth voice of the Druid spoke up finally, addressing the whole room as he looked at Aegnor. 'You have brought us an interesting dilemma. It is known that dark-touched are born from Endarkened mating with humans, or if a dark-touched had a Guardian in their genealogy, such as yourself, Sir Fellfire.'

Compassion touched the druids features, an almost pitying expression that Aegnor found himself hating.

'That is the only reason you are allowed to stand before us, as a former Lord and Prince, but also as a Guardian, perhaps one of the last.' The Druid finished, sitting. 'Our decision is that you will be forgiven, on the price of the girls life. Should you refuse, you will made to watch and then be slain yourself.'

Aegnor took a second to gather his thoughts before speaking.

'What wrong have I done by rescuing this girl? A slave who was to be sacrificed to become an Oracle? Do we even know what an Oracle is? The last time the Traitor started, my father used my mother as a vessel for Him, offered Him my soul and body for dominion over this world.' He looked past the Druid, staring at the dwarf. 'Should I have allowed her to suffer the same fate? Or whatever fate lays in store for her? I would go back and take all their slaves away if I could.

'What have I done wrong by killing those vile creatures who threaten our lives every day they continue to exist? Our infighting has caused us to lose focus of the greater threat, them. You ask me to take this girls life so callously, threatening me with my own as way of compliance. You forget who I am, Druid.'

Wafts of smoke hissed from the scabbard at his hip, the unicorn sword responding to Aegnor's anger. The smell of brimstone slowly filled the air as the half-elf continued.

'I will not kill her, for I believe that to be their plan. His plan. She is marked for Him. When have we seen a female dark-touched? All the males are sent North, even the Guardian's couldn't get the infusion to work with the women volunteers. Why is she different?'

One of the twins spoke up, 'Yes, Sir Fellfire. That's exactly our point. Why is she different? She would be able to reproduce dark-touched with Him, much like your mother, only she would be able to able the... taint He brings in.'

'You would do well to not bring my mother to this discussion, Lord Thomas.'

'Be that as it may,' Lord Matthias allowed his own voice to be heard. 'You would do well to remember your position, Aegnor. We are all friends here, but you have brought unspoken evil to our doorstep.'

'Enough of this talk. He has refused. Allow me to carry out the task, High Lord.' Anies rose from his seat to face Lord Hourdrith, bowing with a fist to his heart, hand on his hilt.

The dwarf actually seemed to consider the idea before making another gesture, a sign to Anies to wait. 'I am curious about Aegnor's defense in this. You know all know as well as I that he does little for  no reason, let alone risk his life for it. If she is thay important in his mind, allow him to speak his thoughts.'

'What?! You would hear this traitor out? Allow him to convince you his innocence? His tongue is forked, my Lord.' Anies was outraged, his anger breaking the rules of conduct. 'Have you allowed your mind to be clou-'

'Before you allow your own tongue to talk itself out of a head, still your tongue, Blackthorne.' Gerahn spoke, his eery gaze staring the young Lord down. 'The High Lord has spoken and so it shall be done. Aegnor, if you would, answer the Fourth Lord's question.'

'I... have given considerable thought to this, myself, my Lords.' He hated thinking of his mother that way, but he had never known her, either. It had felt almost silly to defend someone he hadn't known in life. 'My father had prepared my mother, prepared himself. As my father was an acolyte of the Traitor, he had some resistance to that taint, but my mother did not.

'This girl has a natural immunity to it as all chosen by Him do. Most dark-touched are some throwback to a generation where they were needed most. We have all but bred them out of our bloodlines. I would have to visit the Scrolls of Ascador and further research besides to confirm a lot of what I will be speaking of, my theory, but as Lord Thomas has said, she would be a concubine to the Traitor. She was made for that reason alone.

'I do not think she is tainted by Him, however, but by more of a Her. That is why she is different. She has to live, for all of us,' Aegnor's voice echoed gently in the silence.

The Druid was the first to speak, as was his right, 'We do not have what you require here, but I have read them, during my time at the North.

'During the zenith of His power, His Empire, the Traitor had a Queen, one who stood next to him with equal power. It also talked of an Oracle, a female servant who whispered of the past, present, and future. She was largely why He was so successful. He rewarded her by executing her for heresy when she foretold of His Fall.

'I suppose it could be possible that He could bring this Oracle back, but why? Surely she would want him dead.' The Druid, long-winded as ever, concluded.

Aegnor stared at Gerahn for a long second, allowing a few more seconds to process the information before speaking again.

'He is too arrogant, too confident, to believe she would turn against Him, and we would have no hope of controlling such power. We can teach her to be one of us, make her a Guardian. Let us turn their weapon against them, one more time. We know I played a role in the blight twenty years ago, but let's not allow this girl to be used like I was. Let us give her the tools to fight back, to give her a chance to fight back, like I was given.'

'And who do you propose is enough to train her? Our High Lord? Or would ask one of the twins? I cannot. What I did for you, was because you had been chosen by the unicorn, Klak'nik.'

A hand touched the spiralled hilt of his sword, a gesture made on the subconscious to assert comfort. He felt pain in his heart at the mention of his friend, however; a pain that cut through the simmering anger, that allowed him to put his reasoning mind forward.

'I would, of course, First Lord, should that be allowed.' Aegnor spoke with more confidence, his voice growing bolder. 'You are right in that I have brought this problem before you without much of a plan, but allow me to travel North, to teach this young girl the history of my, our, people.'

To everyone's surprise, High Lord Hourdrith spoke, 'Let this be known, the words I speak are as a dwarf to a half-breed, to brothers in arms. I have seen you all grow together, and apart. It is clear we have a larger problem at hand, but to one we have no answer; or, have reached a stalemate in our answers. I, for one, am not opposed to this.'

He raised a hand to forestall any outbursts, a slight smile pulled his lips upward, perhaps for the first time in two decades, before it turned serious once more. 'Lords, pass your judgement. I recede the order of their death, though it may still be reached as an answer.'

The First Lord spoke, 'Allow the half-breed to continue his life in the North, and she will not be our problem, should this prove disastrous.'

The Third Lord, Anies, spoke, 'I say we proceed with the order of execution. It is the safest and surest way to see to swift end of the Traitor's plan.' His words seethed through clenched teeth.

The Fifth Lord spoke, 'He may live, but we send word of their circumstance to our Northern brothers. They need to be armed with that knowledge, as well as decide for themselves to take them in, though if what the Druid says, they will have people who may be able to help.'

The Fourth Lord, 'Yes, I am in agreement with my brother, Lord Matthias. They will be better able to judge this... problem.'

The High Lord spoke once more, his voice final, 'Aegnor Fellfire, you will be escorted to the North to ensure your safe arrival. I will not force anyone to do this, so I will ask for volunteers amongst the men, as well as one of you to lead this mission. The twins are exempt from this, their hardwork deserves reward. Anies, Druid, I care not. Decide before I do.'

'I have no issue, my Lord.' The Druid inclined his head as he addressed the elder dwarf. 'Anies is needed here, if you are to give the Whitestone brothers leave. We both know I am no good in a fight.'

'So it is decided. First Lord, you may choose your volunteers. Keep it small, you'll need speed to get there before Dead Winter. You leave an hour before first light.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning went smoothly as far as these things go. Lord Gerahn had decided upon a dozen men to escort Aegnor and the girl. Most were elves of no particular allegiance, the rest were elven druid apprentices. Gerahn Longstride had, perhaps, saved the Druid way of life single-handedly and was well-respected by elves and men alike.

The elven warriors carried shields on their backs over the black cloaks. The shields were black as well, golden open hand displayed against the black metal; under that, a golden hand would also be woven onto the cloaks.

The druid apprentices wore black robes over their clothing, the same open hand shown on the front along the neck of the robes; the golden thread made a collar around the neck, coming to form cupped hands at the upper back of the robes; a small eye rested in those eyes, the design woven separately from the rest.

Each one in their retinue carried a ring on their first finger, including the First Lord, though he was allowed more extravagance. Being the humble Druid that he was, the First Lord disliked even wearing that.

Lord Gerahn was shirtless, though decent enough to have decided to wear a vest made of deer-leather, dyed a dark brown; his breeches were made of the same leather, skin tight. Druidic tattoos shown against the bronzed flesh of the man; in that flesh, muscle had been sculpted from it. Truly, a man in his prime. Long, dreaded locks hung loosely behind Gerahn's back, doing nothing to hide those sightless eyes. The brand's running down both cheeks looked angry. The First Lord carried his staff, a stave of a gnarled root from an ancient tree long seen from this world. His long knives were at their usual place astride his left and right hips. Smaller trees had grown at the ends of the staff, almost comically.

'Perhaps not so humble, are we, Druid?' Aegnor asked.

The Druid graced Aegnor a small smile, before signing to the half-breed to be silent, his expression turning businesslike.

'These are going to be a long three months, Sir Fellfire. You are lucky I interceded on your behalf, before Anies could claim you. He would have killed you, and her, out there.' The Druid's voice turned soft, barely loud enough for Aegnor to hear. 'I have Seen our journey, last night. I know you have little regard for the fates, but you will listen to me as we travel and heed this as your first, and last, warning. '

That would explain the redness around the First Lord's eyes.

'Of course, First Lord,' Aegnor bowed, and thought that perhaps the First Lord was right.

It would be a long three months.